Rise - OUTCAST
by forest-winds
Summary: She was bold and brave. He was sarcastic and striking. But, you couldn't look at them normally, unless you left out what was wrong with them. And that wrong thing was a really wrong thing. [ Book ONE of the Rise series, rated T for a reason, warnings inside! ]
**RATED T for darker topics, incest, and more.**

 **Hello, and thank you for considering reading Outcast! I really appreciate that you even looked at this, or even clicked on this on accident c:! Without further delay, you should get to the story!**

Gray skies had overrun the black skies anyone would always see at night, the silver blanket damp with the rain it would soon bring. The center of attention was not on a glimmering lake, or the dark moors, or the shady pines and reed-sprinkled river veins. No, none of those, but rather the oak blend beside those biomes. Inside of it, slightly to the southeast of the habitat but still in the heart, was a dip in the ground that dropped down about 11 feet. You would descend by hopping down on rocks, or by tiny, jutting ledges. One particularly large ledge led to a small cave.

Inside one of the areas named the Nursery by the dwellers of the oak forest, laid a pure white cat with green eyes. Her eyes were shut in thought. The white fur around her stomach bulged slightly, and every once and a while it looked as if her heart was pushed down there and was beating slowly. Breath sharp, a dull throb of pain rippled through her body. One cat kept watch over her, eyes locked, studying her every move. Some others that were like her were not there, they had moved to another area a distance away. Only her and the other female guarding her.

Then, as if something had suddenly snapped, her eyes squeezed tighter. A whimper escaped her. The guard's ears perked, her grey tabby fur shifted across the skin and muscles below as she moved to meow a warning to seemingly nothing. Another feline, with his pitch black fur melting in with the shadows outside, trotted to the entrance of the Nursery, dipping his head in respect. Using body language and vocal words, the guard informed him, "Ravenpaw, remember what to do, right." Not a question, but rather a declarative sentence. He nodded, blue eyes locked on the snow-white queen, who was now wailing out in pain.

Someone else appeared in the opening of the Nursery. "...Frostwing?" He called softly, the cat known as Ravenpaw blocking his sight to the scene.

"No, don't go in yet!" He frantically said.

It was pouring water down now, the clouds were filled with sorrow to see someone in this much suffering. The brown tabby wanting to inside was drenched, and droplets raced down his whiskers. He stayed silent. The cries of the Frostwing now turned into screams. The gray tabby whispered in her ears, trying to soothe her and ease the pain. "One is out. Ravenpaw, come lick this one!" She summoned the black cat with the lash of her tail. He dashed inside, and now the brown tabby outside was able to get sight of the scene.

There laid a cloud-colored she-cat named Frostwing, alongside the gray tabby and Ravenpaw, who frantically licked a kit, whose fur was almost completely black, but a white tuft on it's chest stated otherwise. The newborn's fur was slick and short-haired, for it didn't seem to have it's pelt clumped together like long-hairs do. She screamed even more, and the guard went outside for a second. "I'll be right back!" A cry escaped her mouth. Presently, she slipped out of the den.

The black cat at work looked over at the brown tabby. "Oakfur, please, help lick this kit!" Oakfur went forwards to help support the kit as Ravenpaw went to the entrance, grabbed a branch hanging from the bramble bush den, and quickly walked over to Frostwing and shoved it in her mouth. That muffled her while the second kit was delivered. As it came out, it looked almost exactly like it's littermate. After a few minutes passed, the birthing queen quieted and the pain eased.

That was when the gray tabby came in. Ravenpaw muttered, "Stonepelt." Nodding her head, Stonepelt spat down a stick. Oakfur hissed in annoyance, and the night-blend tom also hung his head with frustration. The female lowered her head in confusion. Why was everyone annoyed with her? The perfect stick needed to be found, and indeed it was. Said stick that was thrown down was smooth and it looked like Stonepelt took the time to take off anything else and hide it, because even the places the twigs on it that were ripped off could not be felt when Oakfur rubbed his paws on the spots.

But, Frostwing spoke up. "I found out there's one she-kit, one tom. I've also decided on names." Everyone turned their craniums in her direction. "This one," she pointed to the tomkit on the left of her stomach, suckling. "Is Frogkit." Oakfur breathed deeply and audibly in agreement. "And the she-kit is Seedkit." The newly-named female squeaked. Frostwing moved to touch her nose to the older tom, and the brown tabby happily leaned down to receive the affectionate gesture. Of course, the kits were upset by this and squeaked angrily when they had to move upwards.

"This is beautiful." The snow-white cat whispered.

"I know." Oakfur softly said back.


End file.
